The Lannisters
by bhut
Summary: AU. Jaime Lannister returns to King's Landing and discovers that Cersei is sleeping with another man and Joffrey is whipping Sansa on a regular basis. He's going to do something about this, believe it! Rated M for mature due to profanity and innuendo. Contains spoilers.


**The Lannisters**

_Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine._

_Note: this story contains spoilers._

...When Jaime Lannister returned to the capital from his captivity, (losing one hand in the process), the first thing that he met was his sister, Cersei, the Queen Reagent, busy buggering someone not important enough for Jaime to remember the name.

"The fuck?" he spoke, without eloquence, but with feeling, and volume – both in sufficiently large quantities for the buggering to stop.

"Jaime! You are back! And you've been hurt!" Cersei desperately cried. "And this isn't what it looks like, either!"

"What does it look like, then?" Jaime said wearily, feeling the disability of having just one hand more keenly than before: now he could not facepalm and decapitate Cersei's new swain at the same time.

"Um," Cersei looked around, looked at herself...and quickly grabbed some of her dress to cover up some of her womanhood – now it was not the time to flash it to Jaime at all. "This, well, he-"

It was at this moment that a servant arrived – few of the Lannisters (or other nobles, really) bothered to learn their names, and so the lucky flunky just remained a lucky flunky, really. "Milady, king Joffrey is whipping Sansa Stark! In public!" the nameless flunky cried.

"The fuck?" Jaime repeated, but with less confusion and more of that sullen, magma-like anger that was a characteristic of the Lannisters in general. "Cersei, what is your son doing?"

"My son now, is he?" Cersei said sounding more like her regular self. "With his father away-"

"Robert Baratheon is _dead_, remember?" Jaime interrupted his sister's rant. "And besides, you're his mother, and the reagent – or is it the regent? I could never remember which is which."

"Reagent, Jaime, reagent," Cersei said wearily. "And, sadly, this isn't enough. Joffrey _is_ the king, and as such, his will is sacrosanct-"

"There was another king, once, who indulged in similar hobbies, and whose will, supposedly, was sacrosanct," Jaime said flatly. "And then he died, Robert Baratheon became king, and I'm the Kingslayer. Can you see where you're going with this, sister?"

"Jaime, you _can't_! Joffrey isn't just a king; he's your – nephew!" Cersei turned white.

"I know," Jaime's look was relentless. "I know that he is my nephew and I have never forgotten it, either. Now, sister, I am going to talk to our father. You, I suppose, should dress up, in _something_, and clean up." He indicated at Cersei's now slain swain. "Good day to you!"

And whirling around, he left.

And although she still was mostly naked, Cersei felt cold for an entirely different reason.

/

The first thing that lord Tywin did, when his son entered the room, was to stare. Discreetly, at the stump, where Jaime's other hand used to be. "Starks?" he said quietly.

"Vargo. Your goat," was the reply, before Jaime sat down. "Father, what is going on? Your grandson is whipping women – noble women – in public-"

"He is the king," Tywin said in a weary, if not a defeated tone. "He-"

"And I'm the Kingslayer," Jamie said brightly. "Ergo, this is why it came up to me to do something about it." This was said in such a cheerful tone, that Tywin immediately believed him:

"What did you do?"

"The Mountain is going to step on him!" Jaime replied in the same tone. "What, there's a reason why he is called the Mountain, and not just because his brain appears to be equal parts rock and cloud. He is just going to come along, you see, while my nephew is busy disgracing the Lannister name, and do the deed – seemingly by accident, right? And then you're going to give him gold – just enough gold for him to return back to whatever range he had dropped off from to walk the seven Kingdoms as a man."

"No," Tywin grabbed the younger Lannister. "You're insane! This plan of yours-"

"I already gave some of that gold to the Mountain," Jaime continued nonchalantly. "For a Mountain, he really knows that gold whets any stone. Must be all that time he had spent working for you-"

Tywin Lannister released Jamie and raced out of the door, almost running over Cersei in the process (and never noticing).

"What was that all about?" Cersei asked, as she finally entered the room, looking more appropriate than when Jaime slayed her swain.

"Father thinks that the Mountain is going to step on Joffrey," Jaime explained helpfully, "and is trying to prevent it."

"...Is the Mountain going to do that?" Cersei asked carefully.

"Not on my doing," Jaime shook his head. "Even when I did have two hands, the Mountain always was worrisome, and now...no, I'm going to keep my distance, thank you very much. You should too – one can never tell just what is going on in his mind – but when he makes it up, he becomes an avalanche instead."

"Then why tell father-? This is a poor joke-"

"But it got him out of the room," Jaime shook his head. "Cersei, was my... nephew always like this?"

"Well," Cersei look uncomfortable. "Back when Robert Baratheon was alive... yes. He always was a bright child, just with something...missing."

"Eh, it's probably your fault, sister," spoke _Tyrion_ Lannister, as he emerged from behind their father's desk, without wine, but with an appetizer instead. "We Lannisters just appear to have something wrong in our blood and seed – just look at _me_ as an example."

"Brother," Jaime nodded civilly, as Cersei sputtered from shock and surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I am a Lannister too, am I not?" the Imp replied with a curious look on his face. "That said, I planned to hide and surprise father, when you arrived and outdid me without even trying. You really _didn't_ get the Mountain involved, however?"

"No," Jaime resolutely shook his head without any mirth on his face. "I told Cersei before - father can handle that thing of rock."

"Good," Tyrion exhaled in relief. "Not because he would've taken the money and switched sides, the Mountain doesn't do that. It's just that he tried once to step on _me_, and not even Joffrey deserves that."

"You mean, tried to step on your feet?" Cersei asked in some sort of a fascinated disgust that her other brother always evoked in her.

"No, directly on me," Tyrion repeated without flinching. "It was going to be one sheer steppage. Considering our respective sizes and everything, it was going to be the end of me too. Father stopped the Mountain just in time, though." He paused as he thought it over. "The point I'm trying to make, is that whatever you're planning to do about our family's disgrace, keep the Mountain out of it. Not unlike our king, he can be creative in cruelty, and may make a bad situation worse – just ask father about prince Oberyn's vendetta, if you'd like."

"I see," Jamie replied thoughtfully, before trying to lighten the mood – in a Lannister way. "It must be a dark day indeed for the house of Lannister, if you are the one talking about disgrace. I distinctly remember an incident that involved a bowl of fruits, two women and a dog-"

"That was absolutely consensual, unlike what young Joffrey is doing to Sansa," Tyrion snapped. "And it's an odd thing, really, that if he had inherited my destitute nature, he hadn't inherited my enterprising largesse-"

There was a pause as the siblings had the first glimmer of an idea between them – or at least that was what Cersei assumed. She had her own thoughts to keep busy.

What her brothers were thinking, and now, probably, planning, was treason. She really should tell about them to their father or Joffrey, but-

Here was the part where Cersei had to confront reality, something that she was really adroit at doing ever since she learned that the original Cersei had been a bitch (or a witch) queen that could turn men into swine, and decided that she was going to uphold that tradition: she knew that father would ignore her, or just put her aside, as only he knew how to, and Joffrey...

Joffrey was the crux of the matter, Cersei knew. When she told Jaime that something was missing in Joffrey, she was telling the truth – there was. Cersei was not certain what it was – kindness, compassion, common sense, or anything else – but it was not there at all. Period.

And so, whenever she gazed at Joffrey and tried to summon a mother's pride, she realized more and more that if given a chance, an opportunity to turn on his relatives, Joffrey would do so with relish, without even acknowledging them as kin. Verily, what was supposed to be the greatest achievement of Lannister breeding may have become their undoing instead.

"...I suppose that you're very happy that you have made me go and talk with the Mountain for nothing!" lord Tywin chose this moment to return to the chamber, failing to notice his other children at first. "I hate talking to the Mountain when it doesn't involve direct commands-" he trailed away, noticing Cersei and the Imp at last. "What are they doing here?"

"We're family too, father," Tyrion said brightly, ignoring the elder Lannister's scorn, "and I'm guessing that the Mountain _isn't_ going to step onto my nephew as he once tried with me?"

"That had been long ago, and I had the Mountain apologize to you back then; really, it was an apology, coming from him," Tywin insisted. "Now, where were we?"

"Joffrey Baratheon has crossed a line," Jaime exhaled. "He is whipping nobility in public. The last king who did that, died – Robert Baratheon became king, I became the Kingslayer, and the Mad King's cohort, fellows and other followers scattered like chaff. Nobody here wants this to happen to house Lannister, nobody."

"High words and high treason," Tywin shook his head, even as on the inside he noticed that the Imp appeared to be backing his brother for once and Cersei... Cersei was just backing away, clearly letting the men in the family argue it out, and that was much more worrisome: a good deal of Cersei's current power came from her relationship with Joffrey (maternal, presumably, though you never knew with her), so for her not to be backing it up was disturbing. "Joffrey has his flaws, he is young, he'll learn. If he won't wear the crown, who will? Robb Stark? Oh, but pardon me in my dotage – he's dead!"

"And Joffrey is whipping his sister," Jaime nodded gravely with a graveness that Tywin liked even less. "How charming. Are there any other Starks left?"

"Well, Arya Stark seems to have vanished," Cersei spoke for the first time since their father returned, "and there's the Stark bastard in the north, on the Wall. Good luck making him king!"

There was a pause. "The way you say it, sister, the gods just might go and make Jon Snow the king of the seven kingdoms to spite you," Tyrion muttered. "Of course, if they assumed instead that the blessing of house of Lannister was on his side, they might turn and frustrate him in every way instead. Either way, that is besides the point. The crowd is foolish and might go in any direction, especially if Lannister gold is paving the road at first, aye?"

"You're mad," Tywin stared. "We're at peak of our power-"

"I remember a relative who told me that there were few defeats that can't be recovered from, but there are fatal victories," Jaime shrugged, "and no, that wasn't Cersei. I am saying, we are saying, that Joffrey Baratheon has crossed the line of human decency and proved that he _is not_ a Lannister. As such, he must be treated only as our king, not one of us – and Sansa Stark should be taken from him – the Imp can provide him with better toys."

"And what of her then?" Tywin pressed on. "You'll marry the wench yourself?"

"Sure he will," Jaime said brightly. "He has given up his women, his dog and his fruit at your behest after all."

There was a pause, broken only by Tyrion's thoughtful chuckle. "Me? A happily married...Imp? And to a blushing virginal bride, no less? Well, when put it this way, I am going to do it for the flourishing of house Lannister! Huzzah! Noble father, will you put my suit before our lord king _Baratheon_, or should I ask my noble sister or brother instead?"

There was a pause during which the Lannister siblings thought that they have gone too far: Tywin looked rather pale – well, paler than the usual. However, he was not ill – he was having a realization: Joffrey's fate was sealed. House Lannister, with or without him, was turning on their most glittering scion, and not even the Mountain would stay in their way.

(Actually, the Mountain was off to capture Vargo Hoat – Tywin could not let Jaime's new handicap go unavenged.)

Joffrey Lannister – well, king Joffrey now, if you wanted to get technical, was doomed, and he, Tywin Lannister, had been outmaneuvered by his children, albeit temporarily, at last.

"I'm so proud of you three," he finally spoke, without even lying (beyond his usual amount). "And fine, you win this round. Now let's go forth and give Sansa Stark the good news."

And that was exactly what had happened, but it was another story.

End?


End file.
